


Diet

by Lafeae



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Drama, Established Relationship, Light Angst, M/M, Relationship Trouble, airport
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-24
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22382317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafeae/pseuds/Lafeae
Summary: Married Joey and Seto are on their way to a much needed vacation, but are stranded by snow in the airport.Over the course of a meal, Joey finds out something about Seto he had never noticed, or simply chose to ignore.
Relationships: Jounouchi Katsuya | Joey Wheeler/Kaiba Seto
Comments: 19
Kudos: 82





	Diet

**Author's Note:**

> It’s hard to tag this without spoiling it, but go into this knowing it’s a revealing conversation, and that it’s not entirely positive. 
> 
> Thank you to Alecto, for giving me confidence to post this.

After his third trip to the bathroom, Joey was just as disappointed to see the signboard above their gate still reading ‘delayed’ in bright red pixels. Sighing, he fell into his the chair beside Seto, kicking his feet up on his bag and getting comfortable for however long they would be waiting. 

“Still two hours?” Joey asked. 

“Two and a half.” 

Joey’s head flopped back against the wall. “They outta just cancel it.” 

“Mmhm,” Seto answered, distracted. He scrolled through emails like the expert he was, while still managing to dig in a bag of gummy bears that had almost magically appeared in his lap in the time it had taken Joey to go to the bathroom. 

Joey raised a brow. “You hungry, babe?” 

“Not really.” 

“Well, you’re eatin’, so I guess ya are,” Joey surmised. “They any good?” 

Seto shrugged, and he proffered the bag to Joey as if he knew that yes sir, Joey was going to ask for a handful. And after he took his share, Seto pulled the bag back and plucked the colourful bears out one at time, pressing them to his lips before making them disappeared. Joey couldn’t help but laugh at his husband—it took a little over a year of dating to notice that Seto ate like a ghost. And after five years of marriage, he still felt like he never actually saw it. He just assumed it happened via absorption or osmosis. 

“Me eating and me being hungry are two different things,” Seto replied. 

“Well if we’re waitin’ in here for five billion hours—,” 

“Two and a half.” 

“—you’re eventually gonna get hungry. So we outta go get food before they start closin’ restaurants. Get a burger or a pizza or somethin’.” 

Seto shrugged noncommittally, never lowering his phone. His finger had stalled, and Joey suspected he was thinking deep on something, like he always did. He stared off into the distance, between the rows of hunched shoulders and grumbling heads, out to the steady cascade of snow that had started earlier that morning. He imagined Seto cussing it out, maybe for delaying them because he hated to sit around and waste time, or maybe because Joey was tugging on his hand to take them to eat when it was clear, in spite of the half-eaten bag of gummy bears, that he wasn’t hungry. 

Seto let go of Joey’s hand. “You go. Bring me back something.” 

“Like what?” 

“You know what I like.” 

Seto didn’t hide his irritation, and he finally clicked his phone off in favour of digging in his carry-on and grabbing a paperback book, it’s cover still stiff, the sticker still pasted on the corner. It declared it was a New York Times best seller, and an “instant classic” but Joey doubted that Seto cared. Fiction, like food, was absorbed. 

Huffing, Joey forcefully yanked Seto out of the chair and grabbed their bags. “C’mon, we’re gonna have plenty of beach days for ya to read that thing. I’m starvin’, so let’s get somethin’ to eat.” 

Seto stood rigid, frowning and scanning a line or five in the book before tucking it under his arm and following Joey through the concourse. 

They walked quietly, shoulder to shoulder. Joey spared Seto glances. Little ones, smiling and nudging his arm as their pace slowed. There was no need to rush, and they avoided the moving walkways to soak up more time. 

“I tell ya what, I don’t care what time we get to the island, I’m gonna lay next to the waves. That shit’s relaxin’.” 

“You’ll probably fall asleep.” 

“Yup. Crashin’ waves, moonlight, barely-humid air? It’s gonna be perfect,” Joey said, and they turned a corner to the atrium of the terminal, a circular section on the second floor with different fast-food offerings. He followed the signs for a sit-down restaurant. “I figure I gotta make up for the lost time, anyways. I ain’t leavin’ that beach until I spend however long we were sittin’ in here. Seems fair.” 

“Seems like a waste.” 

“Nah. We’re goin’ there to relax, reconnect, so it’s not like there’s an itinerary.” 

“Because you wouldn’t let me make one.” 

“We don’t need it,” Joey insisted. “Jus’ me and you and the big, blue sea.” 

Joey beamed, projecting every ounce of happiness he could on the situation, but Seto’s face barely cracked. Not even a flat-lipped smile or hooded eyes, the only sign of his embarrassment beyond the red tinge that sometimes showed up on the tips of his ears. 

Curiously, Joey stopped and tucked loose hairs behind Seto’s ear to see. When he didn’t, he patted his husband’s breast and led them into the restaurant. 

They were shown to a booth tucked in the corner. Seto waved the woman off before she rattled off the specials, and he gazed at the menu in the same dry way he read his emails. 

“Always wanted to grab somethin’ from here. It’s one of those things you can’t get anywhere else. Special restaurant in an airport. I guess it’s not that crazy, you can build a restaurant anywhere, but this is sorta like goin’ to KaibaLand. It’s unique. Even if it’s just...burgers. Ayy, they got a shrimp pasta. I’m all over that,” Joey said, slapping his menu down. Seto was eyeing a little promo flip-board, thumbing through it. “I dunno about you, but I’m excited to try stuff on this private island. The chef Whatshisname that Mokuba was talkin’ about. Gonna be one of a kind.” 

“It should be for the price,” Seto agreed. 

“Think he makes good curry?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“Gonna have to try it one night. An’ I seen a picture for one of those massages that got the stones, we could do that. Mokuba said we should at least, it might relieve some stress.” 

Seto rolled his eyes. “He’s full of all these ‘stress-relieving’ techniques. I haven’t found any that work better than the other. They’re just pointless little excursions sometimes.” 

“Don’t be so negative,” Joey said, smacking the back of Seto’s hand. 

Seto pulled it away. “I’m not.” 

“Pfft, ya are. Jus’ a little.” Joey pinched his fingers together and pretended not to see Seto narrow his eyes. “Look, I ain’t tryin’ to be any way. I’m jus’ excited that me an’ you finally get to go on vacation. Sure, I’m pissed that it’s gonna be late, but there’s nothin’ I can do about it. An’ unless your space station’s figured out a way to control the weather, I don’t think there’s much you can do, neither.” 

“Then be excited,” Seto said. “I have no problem with that.” 

“But there is a problem with somethin’?” 

Before Joey could confirm, the waitress came up and took their orders. He grimaced as Seto ordered wine. On top of being grouchy, he’d be tipsy, because one glass was always two or three, anymore. It was also absorbed, just like everything else, and Seto handled his liquor poorly. 

Once the waitress left, Seto leaned back and crossed his arms. “I...there’s not a problem, per se.” 

“You can talk to me. I’m here.”

Seto sighed. 

“If it’s about me, that’s okay, too. I’d rather ya tell me that I’m doin’ somethin’ wrong than someone else.” 

“I doubt that.” 

“I do. Seriously. Like, yeah, it’s gonna hurt an’ I’m gonna get mad at you, but that’s jus’ because it matters. At the end of the day, I only really care about what ya tell me you think. Because fuck the rest of the people; it’s not like they go to bed with ya every night and kiss ya every mornin’ before ya go to work. They don’t smell your breath or pick out your ties.” 

“Joseph...” 

“All I’m sayin’ is talk to me. Ya haven’t been talkin’ to me, and I ain’t dumb. I can see that’s happenin’,” Joey said. 

The ever-present fear that he’d gone and done something wrong, stepped out of line in a way he didn’t even know, always persisted. Getting into a relationship with Seto had been a mess of red-tape and non-disclosure agreements. A pre-nup. A mandatory psychological evaluation which found “excessive happiness” in him, amongst other minute details. He knew this was going to be hard. He knew he’d be looking over his shoulder and watching his mouth. The price of celebrity. The price of a crush, but it was worth it. 

Still, he feared it. 

Swallowing, Joey ducked his head and said, “Please?” 

Drinks were delivered. Seto snatched it with both hands and looked into the glass. “We don’t need this vacation. We don’t need to reconnect. It implies there was something wrong with us, and that’s absurd. That you even think that, planned this, is what bothers me.” 

“Well, ya didn’t say ‘no’ when I suggested it.” 

“You didn’t give me all the details up front,” Seto accused. “You value you my opinion but don’t ask if I think we should take a vacation?” 

“You didn’t say ‘no’,” Joey repeated. 

“Because you’re my husband. It seems reasonable that you’d have our best interests at heart, but clearly not. Not if you think we need to ‘reconnect’.” Seto drank half the glass in the time that Joey wasn’t looking. “We don’t need to reconnect.” 

“If you say so.” 

“We’re perfectly fine.”

“Uh-huh.” When Joey looked back up, the wine glass was empty. The red tinge settled, moist, on Seto’s lips. “That’s why you’re staying real late at work, or flyin’ off to God knows where to do God knows what. Seto, I talk to Mokuba. KaibaCorp ain’t that busy, an’ he doesn’t know what you’re doin’. It’s freakin’ me out. So I thought that us goin’ on vacation might do...somethin’. I dunno what, but if us bein’ alone on some deserted island was gonna be what it takes for us to talk, then that’s what I’m willin’ to do. And we get to get away from this shitty weather, too.” 

Seto’s lips parted. He licked away the remaining wine on them and set the glass near the edge of the table. 

Joey hung onto his husband’s hungry, almost spoken expression with vigour, waiting for the moment that the words came out. But Seto continued to think, flicking his gaze up to meet Joey’s before falling away again. 

Their food arrived. Joey stabbed the shrimp and twirled his noodles, but Seto left the salad untouched. He waited for Seto to pick up the fork or even shake the bowl. Something, anything, more than the second glass of wine on a stomach of gummy bears. This thing wasn’t his husband. The faux-Earthy look of the restaurant seemed to pick that up just right. The angles in his cheeks and the shadows on the backs of his hands, between his slender fingers fiddling with the fork but not lifting it from the table. 

Joey’s phone pinged, and he checked the notification. 

_Flight 427 from ORD (Chicago) to FPO (Grand Bahama Island) status update: CANCELLED._

Joey put his phone away. 

He could hear the same message over the PA system, and from the look he and Seto shared, he knew he didn’t have to say anything. 

Joey nudged the bowl towards Seto. “Eat somethin’. It’s gonna be a long night.” 

“We need to go get a room,” Seto said, standing. 

“Wha—I ain’t done eatin’.” 

“Do you want to sleep in the concourse? There’s not that many options,” Seto asked, snarling. He carded his fingers through his hair and flattened it again. Regain composure. Be regal, aloof, untouched. But the anger bloomed pink on his neck. “I need to go have a chat with ticketing.”

“Seto.” 

“Pay for us and go get a room.” 

“Seto.” 

“What?” 

“Sit down.” Joey grabbed Seto’s wrist and held it firm, but warm. He squeezed, nodding for Seto to sit back in the booth and, hopefully, eat the damn salad. But he’d take sitting first. “If we gotta sleep sausaged together on some wavy couch that’s fine. Whatever. But sit an’ eat an’ tell me whatever the hell it is you’re tryin’ to tell me.” 

“Hn.” 

“C’mon. You’re thinkin’ about it.”

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“It does,” Joey said, exasperated. He let go of Seto’s wrist and stuck his hands between his legs. “I mean...it’s gotta, doesn’t it? I’m worried about ya, that’s why I did this. I’m worried about us.” 

“It’s not about ‘us’.” 

“Then is it me?” 

The normal fire, the impressive soul in Seto’s eyes that licked at his lids and made him almost impossible to look away from, died. Joey saw it douse in a blink, in a twitch of Seto’s scowl, in the awkward way he rubbed the back of his neck and unwound his shoulders. 

“If it wasn’t for you, Joseph, I wouldn’t be here right now. I’d be gone. There’d be no us, or vacation, or reconnecting. It’s not you, and it’s not us.” 

“O-oh...”

“Pay and go get us a room,” Seto ordered again, slow. He didn’t appear defeated. His back was a still straight and his shoulders squared. But the wine still stained his lips, and Joey saw his hands shaking as they reached for his phone and turned it off. It never did that. His phone didn’t have an off button. “There’s a lot to talk about.” 

“A’right.” Joey stood, enveloping Seto in a hug, kissing his neck first and then his cheek. He ran his knuckles down Seto’s jaw and noticed the off-grain of his shave. Uneven. Imperfect. The small details he figured were a change in Seto’s age, not his mentality. “I love you, okay?” 

Kaiba embraced Joey lamely. “Love you, too.”

“I’ll come back to the uh...the terminal when I get everything settled. I’m...I’m gonna bring the salad.” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

Joey smiled weakly. “I know, but ya will be.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, I had a hard time wanting to post this despite looking over it. I like it, but there’s something about it that just makes me hesitant. Nonetheless, I wanted to update something because I’ve been slacking, still struggling a little with things. 
> 
> So please, tell me what you think. And thank you for reading.


End file.
